


New Hopes

by gloatingly



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Asylum
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Guilty Conscience, Mommy Issues, Older Man/Younger Woman, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychopath, nanny - Freeform, slight daddy kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-04-28 09:45:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14446605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloatingly/pseuds/gloatingly
Summary: In which doctor Oliver Thredson found a way to sabotage Lana's escape and Kit Walker went to jail for his crimes. Oliver is a widowed father, looking for an au pair to take care of his newly motherless son.Experienced housekeeper/ live in nanny wanted.Widowed father with nine to five job looking for long term live in nanny to take care of two year old son seven days a week. Nanny must have at least three years of experience. Tasks include general housekeeping, grocery shopping, childcare and cooking. Expected qualities are responsibility, maturity, reliability. Salary is negotiable.Contact me: (800) 437-8711





	1. The Search

_Experienced housekeeper/ live in nanny wanted._  
_Widowed father with nine to five job looking for long term live in nanny to take care of two year old son seven days a week. Nanny must have at least three years of experience. Tasks include general housekeeping, grocery shopping, childcare and cooking. Expected qualities are responsibility, maturity, reliability. Salary is negotiable._  
_Contact me: (800) 437-8711_

 

Finding a nanny fit for his son was the hardest part for doctor Oliver Thredson.  
They all reminded him of Lana in some way, his ex-mother. The one that abandoned and betrayed him. The one that threatened to abort his son and almost succeeded with her inhumane plans.  
The women that had contacted him after his advertisement in the newspaper were all in the same age range as his mother and thus as Lana, or had other similarities. The same hair colour, the same sweet smell, a kind, motherly touch as they shook his stretched out hand, the hint of a smile that reminded him of the journalist.  
He didn’t want his new nanny to look like Lana. He couldn’t afford to kill his sons new nanny, which he knew would eventually turn out to happen were he to hire one that reminded him of her. They never stayed out of free will, after all.  
He couldn’t afford it, not now Walker was behind bars for the crimes Oliver had committed. Not now he had a son to care for, a son that needed a motherly figure to look after him for when he was away. After Oliver had tied up all the loose ends (Kit in jail, Lana’s remains buried in three different locations, the migration from Massachusetts to Wyoming) he had found himself a new job. The peace he felt was nice for a while but had quickly turned into a unsettling, restless feeling. So, as effectively as possible, he buried himself alive in his work, spent as much time with his son as possible and, with hiring a caretaker for his son, he hoped he could restrain himself from doing anything that would leave his child fatherless.

Truthfully, doctor Thredson was starting to abandon all hope he had at a chance to find someone to fit his criteria. None of them seem to be the motherly figure he had imagined them to be. Didn’t these women become nannies because they loved children? Drawing mindless circles on his spotless white tablecloth that was draped over his kitchen table, he looked at his little list of candidates, their names crossed out by the thick, black ink of his fountain pen.

Billie Richardson. Too much like Lana. She had the same exact haircut he remembered Lana had and she didn’t bother to look him in the eyes when he spoke with her.  
Barbara Brown. Too distant. Oliver knew how important it was for a child to be able to get a warm hug after a long day.  
Carol Miller. He had liked her, but she seemed more interested in Oliver himself than in his baby boy.  
Patricia Hall. He just really, really disliked her face.  
Oliver sighed deeply, pushing his black rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he read the very last name on the bottom of his little list, the only name that hadn’t been crossed out.

  
Gwendolyn Price.  
He considered calling her to cancel their appointment after all the previous failures of the day, but before that thought had left doctor Thredson’s mind, his doorbell rang.  
When he opened the door, he didn’t even consider the fact that this young woman, this girl, could possibly be Gwendolyn Price. She stood before him, 5 feet 4, a plain yellow dress, with big blue eyes. Behind her, the sound of a car honking. The young woman turned around to wave at the black Ford Mustang that inched away further and further from Oliver’s suburban home. Oliver blinked twice, before returning his gaze back to the slender girl on his doorstep.

“Hello. Can I help you?” he asked, wondering if perhaps she needed to use the bathroom. The girl showed him her pearly white teeth as she nodded with a eagerness he hadn’t noticed with any of the previous women that had stepped on his doorsteps that specific day.

“I sure hope so, or it would appear I’d be at the wrong address! I’m here for the advertisement in the newspaper for the live-in au pair. We spoke briefly on the phone. I’m Gwendolyn Price,” Oliver couldn’t help but be a bit baffled. The girl in front of him couldn’t be much older than 18 and his advertisement had specifically asked for a professional caretaker for the job.

“Right, Gwendolyn Price. Why don’t you come in so we can have a little chat?” Oliver opened the door wider, so Gwendolyn could step in. The dark ebony wood of the heavy front door caught her attention as he closed it behind her. She took her time to admire the high ceiling and clean, white walls of his little hallway.

“Your house looks absolutely breath taking so far, sir. Very modern,” she complimented the doctor, who was taking in the stranger in his hallway.

“Thank you very much, miss Price,” he said, out of courtesy and habit. Oliver was very good at being a polite stranger, a friendly face in the crowd, a trusted doctor. “Would you follow me to the kitchen?”

And so, the unknowing girl followed her potential employer to his rather large kitchen, much larger than where she herself had grown up. Gwendolyn couldn’t help but let her eyes glide across every single little detail, taking in all that her eyes could see.

“Would you like something to drink? A cup of coffee, perhaps?” Oliver was amused by the girl and her curious eyes.

“A glass of water will do, thank you very much,” as Oliver reached for a clean glass from the very left cabinet, Gwendolyn started rambling in a nervous outburst. “My dad escorted me here. You see, I don’t have my license and I don’t live close by. My dad usually doesn’t drive me around, I just walk or take the bus, but this job interview is so important to me. He knew, so he drove me, so he would be sure I’d make it on time. 3 o’clock sharp.”

Oliver placed a beverage coaster on his kitchen table, followed by the glass of water. He smiled warmly at the young girl, who seemed to grow more and more anxious as the seconds crept by.

“Please, take a seat,” he said, as he made an example of himself. She quickly followed his lead, her toes barely touching the ground.  
“As I stated in my advertisement, I’m a single father with a beautiful baby boy. He’s almost two summers old, now. He needs to learn a lot, and as you will be spending a lot of time with him, if I decide to hire you, you will be part of his learning processes. Do you think you’re fit for the task at hand?” Oliver immediately started firing questions at Gwendolyn, who tried to look as professional as she possibly could. She had trained her professional face in the mirror countless of times, same as answering questions. She even managed to leave unnecessary ‘oh’s’ and ‘um’s’ out of her well-structured and word by word calculated sentences.

“I do believe I would be fit for that task, sir. You see, I have 3 little brothers, and each of them I’ve thought how to speak when my mother failed to do so. I’ve spent countless of hours with the lot of them,” Gwendolyn explained to the man with the dark hair in front of her, as he scribbled words she could not read on the little notepad in front of him. Realizing it would be rather rude to stare at his scribbled down notes, she clamped her hands around the cool glass of water in front of her and focussed on his black rimmed classes, where after his dark irises hid.  
When Oliver was done, he folded his hands together on his speckless, white tablecloth.

“As it was stated in my advertisement, you’d be living with me and my son here and you will be taking on some domestic tasks as well, such as cleaning and cooking. Are you experienced in such work?” Gwendolyn was quick to nod.

“I am, sir. I’ve been raised to participate in domestic tasks since I was twelve years old. I know how to make a nutritious, healthy meal,” she answered him, a small smile as she remembered the many pleasant evenings with her family. Oliver nodded, picking up his pen but changing his mind before he had the chance to write anything down.

“Miss Price, I do wonder how old you are, with no disrespect intended. You see, what I’m after is someone to take care of my child when I’m away for work or other business. I’d leave my child in your care and I’d trust my home into your lonesome presence. I want to be sure I can put my trust in this caretaker. And your young appearance make me wonder-”

“Sir, I completely understand that you want what’s best for your son, but I assure you that I’m just as experienced as any of the ladies you’ve seen today, if not even more. Growing up, I’ve learned what a baby boy needs, three times over. I may be young, but I’m experienced and willing to give your son what he needs. A female hand in his upbringing and close personal bond to a lady,” Gwendolyn wasn’t one to interrupt, but she saw no other option at hand. He needed to know how important this was for her, how _capable_ she was.

“Miss Price, you have certainly shown your enthusiasm for the upbringing of my boy. I’ll certainly take that in account when I make my decision,” Oliver started the end of their already short conversation, ready to send the young woman home.

“Can I meet him?” Oliver was taken aback by her question, one none of the women that came by earlier had asked. Now Gwendolyn had asked, it seemed a reasonable question. “Perhaps he’ll take a great liking in me.”

He made her follow him upstairs, where his beloved Johnny was just waking up from his daily 2 PM nap, and ready to throw a tantrum. Oliver had grown used to Johnny’s tantrums and knew how to handle his son in these situations. However, before he could do anything, the young woman that had followed him upstairs had gotten her hands on his son. Oliver eyed the both of them, Gwendolyn with an adoring smile plastered on her face and Johnny’s face red from angry tears.

“Hey little guy,” she softly spoke to the doctors son, capturing Johnny’s attention. He looked up at the girl with teary blue eyes. “I’m Gwen. I might be your new nanny.”

Gwendolyn, _Gwen_ , talked to the young boy like he had any clues what the stream of words that came from her mouth meant, but it clearly seemed to work. His attention seemed to shift from his aimless anger to the young woman that was holding him. Oliver noticed his son’s face clear up quicker than he himself had ever managed to.  
Johnny looked at his new babysitter like she was the best thing in the world, with her pretty, long, blonde hair and friendly eyes. Something about her felt familiar to the young child.

“Aren’t you the prettiest little lad?” her voice was like a soothing melody to the doctor’s child, and soon, his face was filled with little laughs and smiling eyes, no trace of earlier angry tears left on his face.

“Remarkable,” Gwendolyn turned around to face the door station where he stood and smiled at the doctor, as if she had forgotten he was there in her moment spent with the boy.

“See? Children tend to like me. And I tend to like them,” she smiled at the small child in her arms. It wasn’t a friendly mandatory smile, it was a honest smile, a smile with her entire face, a genuine, real smile that Oliver hadn’t seen for so long. It made Oliver realize that she was the one. The one that would distract him from his committed crimes, the one that would make the guilty silence in his quiet house disappear, the one that would take his mind off his bottomless fears, but above all, the one that would make his son feel loved.  
She was the one.


	2. Lost And Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all,
> 
> Here's a short thank you note to everyone who has taken the time out of their day to read New Hopes, the feedback has been amazing! I didn't expect this story to do so well, so once again, thank you so much.
> 
> I'm not entirely happy with this chapter but I hope it's enjoyable nonetheless.
> 
> \- gloatingly

Chapter Two: Lost And Found

Getting used to his son’s new caretaker living in his suburban home was definitely not the easiest thing for Oliver. He had grown comfortable in the everlasting silence of his new home, sometimes disrupted by the occasional crying from Johnny. He was always looking forward to the comfort of his home, where he could truly be himself after a long day of dealing with the mentally ill.

He had slipped into a dull routine.  
Getting up, showering, getting dressed, breakfast with Johnny, dropping Johnny off at that horrid neighbour of his, work, grocery shopping, picking Johnny up, dinner with Johnny, bringing Johnny to bed, watch TV, go to bed.  
The days seemed to blend together in a seemingly never ending Monday that left him restless and so unbelievably bored.

The employment of Gwendolyn Price had certainly changed a lot in his structured days. For one, there was a lot more social contact with a sane person for a welcome change.

“Good morning, miss Price,” she greeted him back by pressing a cup of coffee - black: no milk and no sugar, just the way he liked it - in his hands and a minimal smile on her face.

“Good morning doctor Thredson. How are you on this fine morning?” Ever since Gwendolyn had learned Oliver was a doctor she couldn’t stop asking him about his work. She was fascinated by the way his mind worked, the way he thought about illnesses. She had praised him for his open-mindedness and his want to cure his patients, after even the best doctor had given up on them. It was hard not letting her flattery get to his head.

“I’m doing quite well, how about yourself?” he asked, looking at the young woman’s face, her green eyes filled with distress but the friendly smile he had quickly grown used to plastered on her face.

“I’m just fine, doctor. Just finding my way around here, is all,” she told him. Although Oliver had the feeling there was something she didn’t tell him, he decided it was best not to pry. After all, this had only been her fourth day working for him. Despite himself, he couldn’t stop looking at the girl as she made airplane noises and fed his son with a spoon. It was her demeanour that had set him off. Her shoulders tight, her back stiff and a pale glow on her cheeks. He wondered if perhaps she was homesick, although she hadn’t made her wishes for weekend activities clear to him. As far as he was concerned, she’d stay with him for the weekends too.

“What are the plans for today?” he asked, hoping conversing with her could release some of her obvious stress symptoms.

“Park!” Johnny exclaimed excitedly, looking at him with the same big ocean eyes Oliver had looked in for the very first time after Lana had brought their son in the world, with the additional unnecessary, dramatic screaming. Oliver had no other choice but to smile at his son, the very source of his happiness.

“Johnny and I are going to visit the zoo, aren’t we? We’re going to look at the big, strong lions!” Gwendolyn said and Johnny took the liberty to throw his plate with carefully cut slices of apple on the floor in his excitement. 

“I’m sorry,” doctor Thredson apologized to Gwendolyn, who was peeling off the scattered slices of apple from the kitchen floor. “He usually isn’t like this. I suppose he just needs some time to adjust to a female presence in the house.”

Oliver wasn’t surprised by his son’s adjusting problems, he himself had similar issues. Not that he was bothered by her presence, it just took some getting used to.

“That’s quite alright, doctor. I’ve dealt with toddlers way worse than him. He’s just a bit excited, aren’t you?” Johnny let out an exclaim that let him know that he indeed was and the soft chuckle that escaped Gwendolyn’s mouth made him realize once again what an excellent choice he had made.

 

When the first Sunday morning since her arrival came, Gwendolyn had been more nervous than the previous days. As Oliver was reading the newspaper over a cup of coffee, she was nervously fidgeting with her fingers and, unlike usually, not wearing her black dress with the white apron.

“Doctor,” she started, sounding like a teenager about to ask her father if she could go out with a boy. “I was wondering if you would give me permission to attend church on Sundays.”

Oliver had a hard time keeping his laughter to himself. Had that been the reason for her nervousness all along? Before he could respond however, she opened her mouth again.

“And I was wondering if it would be possible for you to accompany me,” she added, her voice softer than he was used to. The need to laugh had vanished like snow on a sunny day. Oliver didn’t believe in God. Truthfully, he never had. He believed in facts, things that were real, things that you could touch and see. Things that were proven by mankind. God simply seemed like a beacon of hope for the weak-minded when times were rough, a way to control the population, made up by kings and queens. 

“I’m not a holy man,” he decided to say, instead of telling her God wasn’t real, like he would’ve done with any other individual.

“Oh, I don’t mind that at all, doctor! It’s just… I’m not from here and I thought perhaps, if you’d accompany me, I wouldn’t have to go alone. At least there would be one familiar face,” there it was again, that friendly smile that took up her entire face. “It would be just this once! And it would be a great opportunity for the two of us to get to know each other better. Us having the best possible contact would be great for Johnny, don’t you think?”

 

The church was incredibly crowded and soon enough he wondered once again why he had complied to her honey sweet request. Clearly, he hadn’t fully realized the consequences of his actions.  
Oliver wasn’t a big fan of cramped spaces, but Gwendolyn didn’t seem to mind. She stood in front of him, with Johnny’s small hand in hers. She sometimes turned back, as if to make sure he hadn’t disappeared on her yet, and each time he was still there, disregarding his urge to run out of the local church, tearing at the seams under the weight of his dark thoughts.  
He couldn’t feel more uncomfortable in the supposed house of God. Of course, Oliver had always been aware of how wrong his actions had been, but he had never failed in supressing these thoughts.  
After all, it was him, his life and his wants that were more important than anything.  
His mother never loved him, her own son, more than she loved herself, so why would he have any regard for human life that wasn’t his own? It wasn’t his fault that those women didn’t want to stay with him. They clearly made it harder on their selves than was necessary. They could’ve prevent any further killings, if they had only stayed with him.  
But they never did.


	3. Unwanted

Oliver didn’t exactly remember when he had started to name the events that happened. There was ‘Before Lana’. He had killed Donna Burton, the librarian and Alison Riedel, the dental assistant. Then there was ‘Lana’, where he framed Kit Walker (partially. He had killed his wife Alma, after all.) He had killed Wendy for her, and kidnapped Lana. Although it was one of the hardest periods of his life, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. After all, because of Lana he had his son.  
And Gwendolyn.

Oliver couldn’t be sure when his obsession with the young woman living in his home began, or why, for that matter. This obsession was unknown territory for Oliver. It wasn’t comparable to his feelings for Lana, he didn’t see Gwendolyn as a possible mother at all. She was too young. What he felt for Gwendolyn was strange and new, and it took some getting used to.

Oliver was used to taking what was his, even if it wasn’t exactly his. It would always be eventually, usually sooner than later. He had demonstrated it before. The women that came before Lana, and of course Lana herself. She had been the most challenging, winning her trust, taking her from the asylum. But he had done it. Manipulation was what he was good at, after all.  
With Gwendolyn, it would have to be different. He enjoyed her. Her presence, her voice, her quiet little laughs when she talked to his son. The way her eyes flickered over his face when they talked. The way she actually listened to what he had to say. The way her hair always smelled like lavender. He even enjoyed her cooking, even if it could definitely use some improvement. Maybe, if he would take his time, he could make her fall in love with him. Make her think she was, at least. It sounded appealing, he had to admit. He’d finally have a shot at a normal life, and perhaps he’d finally be content with the way his life, once she was his. A wife and a son. Wasn’t that what every man dreamt of?  
But a tiger can’t changes his stripes.

 

“Doctor?”

“Oliver,” he mindlessly corrected her. They had moved to first name basis, a few weeks after her arrival. She blushed, still not used to calling him by his birth given name. She tended to fall back into old habits quickly.

“Oliver,” she repeated him. He liked the way his name rolled of her tongue. He wondered if she enjoyed the way his name tasted in her mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s automatism.”

“That’s alright, Gwendolyn,” He took a sip of the fresh coffee she had just put in front of him, and turned his attention back to the files that were spread out over his kitchen table. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, taking a seat next to him. She curiously opened one of the files. “Anna Jackson. Age 31. Bashed her husband’s skull in with a fire extinguisher.”

Oliver turned his attention back to the curious girl who’s legs barely reached the floor. He took his time to observe her while she was distracted with Anna’s file. Her blonde hair was twisted into a bun that was almost perfect in the nape of her neck, her green eyes were skimming the pages carefully. She was wearing the clothes she always wore, a black dress that reached down ‘til her knees, and the white apron. Her dress had creeped up just enough for Oliver to see a little more leg than usual. A little dizzy from the way his mind quickly worked up to improper thoughts, he quickly looked away. She’s barely a woman.

“They’re patient files,” he explained, catching her green eyes. She carefully closed the file and put it back on the table and picked up another one. “William Sella. Age 19. Set his parents’ barn on fire, killing his little sister and all livestock in the progress.”

“Perhaps not the most appropriate reading for a young woman like yourself,” he suggested, amused, when she pulled a face.

“Are these all your patients?” she asked, flipping pages as she completely ignored his earlier remark as if she hadn’t heard any of it.

“Yes. I talk to all of them in the span of a week. To some more than once. I was planning on adding my notes to the files and organize them this weekend,” he spoke, gesturing to a pile of files that was neatly stacked on the corner of his kitchen table. Gwendolyn had always shown an interest in Oliver’s work, so he knew she wouldn’t mind if he told her all about his work.

“Are all of your patients rehabilitable?” she asked, her eyes drawn back to William Sella’s file.

“No. I don’t think so,” he confessed to her. “But I’m willing to give them all a chance. In lay terms, a little compassion would go a long way. Locking them away so they’re no longer bothersome for society may be the solution for them, but it’s just the start of an entire progress for the patient.”

Gwendolyn closed the file, and reunited it with the other files Oliver had yet to go through.

‘I think you’re a good person,” her small, warm hand on his knee. “I’m sure not every doctor looks at it like that. I’ve heard of places where they simply lock these people away in the nuthouse and throw away the key. They don’t even get a shot at trying to rehabilitate,” the sadness in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Oliver.

“I’m sure you’re changing that place for the better,” she removed her hand from his knee, and Oliver let go of a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Thank you,” he spoke, not sure what else to say. Gwendolyn gave him an innocent smile that made him wonder if she knew what she was doing to him.

“Don’t thank me,” she said, picking up another file. For a few minutes, it was quiet. Oliver tried his very best to focus on the files he was supposed to be organizing, instead of the rustling of papers and soft breathing next to him. This was what they had been talking about, Oliver realized. The boys in school. He had a crush on Gwendolyn. A deep sigh left his bow-shaped lips, realizing how stupid it was. He was a grown man, he was too old to have a school girl crush on a girl that barely got out of school herself.

“Am I allowed to read these?” she suddenly interrupted his train of thought, capturing his attention. She looked at him with a patient file in her hand, and both of her eyebrows cocked up.

“No. but I won’t tell if you won’t,” Oliver smiled, and so did Gwen. She continued reading through the files in a comfortable silence, and Oliver took his time to look at her again. She had placed her elbow on the table, the palm of her hand supporting her head. She flicked the pages with her slender fingers, sometimes pushing a lost strand of hair that got free from her bun behind her ear. When she noticed him looking at her, he couldn’t help but be a little more brisk than he intended to.

“Perhaps you should wake Johnny from his nap. There’s more to this job than making conversation,” Oliver was no fool. Gwendolyn was young and beautiful, falling in love with her would be pointless. She would leave him anyway, eventually. They all did.

Oliver watched her shove her chair back with a loud screech and flee upstairs, her head down. A sigh left his throat. Liking her was foolish, and Oliver was anything but a fool. After all, how hard could it be to get rid of a stupid little crush? If he could refrain from acting on his mommy issues, this shouldn’t be half as hard. He did regret his harsh words, though. She probably had no idea where his outburst had come from. The familiar slap from the daily mail hitting the stone tiles in his hallway got his legs moving again.  
Although there was a rather big pile of mail, one newspaper in particular caught his eye. He had seen this paper all throughout his life, but not anymore since he had moved.  
Oliver felt his face turn white as a sheet when the front page caught his eye. This was no Wyoming newspaper, and the date on the paper differentiated two months from the date on the other papers. Oliver felt his chest grow heavy as he stared straight into Kit Walker’s smug face that occupied the front page, combined with the big, bold headline that stated “DANGEROUS KILLER OF WOMEN ESCAPED FROM ROSLINDALE STATE PRISON.”  
Kit had escaped from prison, and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what his plans were.  
Get revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> Sorry it took me a while to upload, I've been busy. Anyway, finally some action! I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter.  
> Kudos and comments are always welcome!  
> \- Gloatingly


End file.
